I was reading an article which says that Australians are becoming less and less likely to move interstate for school or work or anything really.
It was one of those things that was both surprising and unsurprising.
My family is one of the ones that has moved for work before.
I was born in Melbourne, my family relocated to Canberra before I was 1, stayed there until I was about 8 (long enough for my brother and sister to be be born in the same place), and then moved to Coffs Harbour. We stayed there long enough for me to finish primary school, then moved back to Victoria in time for me to start high school.
And there we stayed.
I got to complete high school in one place, my sister got to attend both primary school and high school in one place, while my brother finished primary school and then went through high school without another shift.
Each of the moves had been prompted by my father's job, when new positions or promotions became available.
There was a point when I was in high school where we might have moved to Tasmania but Dad either didn't apply for the position or didn't get it.
At the time I was glad because I was a stubborn teenager who wanted to stay with my friends.
Now I'm kinda wondering what life would have been like if we'd made that move as well.
The thing is my father had a job in the public service.Even before the advent of the internet they had a pretty good listing of jobs that was available internally so you knew what was available.
I assume you either interviewed locally and a report was passed on or you were interviewed by phone back when that was the only sensible option*.
And THAT is the point my brain got all hooked up on initially when I read the article.
'How the shit are you supposed to get a job in another state?' I thought.
'Are you going to bung along your resumes, then go on some kind of interview roadtrip?'
'What kind of employers are going to be comfortable hiring someone who isn't local?'
'What if you get there and you don't like the town?'
These are all thoughts that, as a person who has friends who interview for jobs in other countries and then bugger off overseas when they get them, I was a bit surprised to find myself having.
If they could do it back when all job postings were by newspaper and employment agency then obviously they can do it now, we just don't.
Maybe because there is a part of our brains that is still rattling along, unobserved by the conscious mind, still thinking this shit.
'How the shit are you supposed to get a job in another state?'
Search for jobs in your field online and apply for them, durr.
'Are you going to bung along your resumes, then go on some kind of interview roadtrip?'
Well what with these magical advances in technology, any employer willing to hire someone from out of state would be willing to interview you by ye olde phone or videoconference over Skype or Viber or another similar program.
'What kind of employers are going to be comfortable hiring someone who isn't local?'
Well some employers would be fine with it, others wouldn't.
A lot of government organisations, chain businesses, or big companies that have offices in more than one city would think of it as business as usual. If you have the qualifications and are willing to relocate, then you're a good candidate.
Some towns or cities that need more people from various trades, or more medical professionals and the like, hold information events to attract anyone qualified to do the work and willing to up stumps.
There are some employers who wouldn't consider it but they would for the most part be smaller businesses or in industries that have a certain kind of turn over.
You wouldn't expect to apply for a cafe job on the other side of the country and have the owner excited to Skype you for a casual position.
'What if you get there and you don't like the town?'
I am very aware this is a question you ask yourself when you've never been in proper economic difficulty.
You've never had your back to the wall and been looking down the barrel of 'do I pay the rent or do I buy groceries?'
If there is work available locally and you're just a bit bored and looking for a change you may not be that thrilled about the idea of moving to a town/city/state you've never visited before and decide against the idea.
If the shit is heading for the fan and you've got a chance at this distant job I expect you take it and worry about whether your prospective new home has a bowling alley or a place of worship of your choice later.
There are people who move purely because they want to experience life in different places, to get more experience.
There are also people who move wherever they need to in order to support themselves and their families.
If you've got the luxury to be in the first category then good for you.
If you're in the second category you probably find this whole discussion a bit frivolous.
If you're partway between the two... good for you, you're probably very level-headed and making the best out of your opportunities.
This topic has been in the public eye recently with Prime Minister Abbott answering questions on the lack of work available for young Tasmanians and what this will mean with harsher welfare benefit criteria by saying “If people have to move for work, that’s not the worst outcome in the world … for hundreds and hundreds of years people have been moving in order to better their life,”.
At the time this comment was met with outrage which I joined in with in a vague sort of way, waving my fist at the car radio and muttering imprecations, but now I can see that most of that anger came from a possibly subconscious reaction of 'what if they don't want to?' or 'why should they have to?' the answers to which in previous generations would have been, respectively, 'tough titties' and 'because they want to eat'.
It's amazing that in a time of faster travel and easier communication
in many ways we are becoming more rooted to our physical locations.
It's hard to believe it could be a fear of the unknown, seeing as so much more information is available to us these days, but are we coming less adventurous as a result?
Have we decided that being able to see things virtually rules out the old saying 'if you never ever go, you'll never ever know'?
Or maybe, like me, everyone is thinking of moving about as something they'll do 'later' but because we never apply any proper thought to it, later doesn't come and all of a sudden we'll be in that age bracket who are less inclined to move at all.
Whatever the reason it'll be interesting to see how trends develop in the future.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Sunday, 15 June 2014
Saturday, 31 May 2014
And It Goes On And On
Well we've gotten to the end of the week without any more solid information.
The supervisors (not contract staff themselves) have been assuring us that things won't be as bad as all that and that it'll be people from the other areas of the contract that will be let go, not their staff!
Yes, yes, thanks, so helpful.
We go through flurries of discussing the possibilities (cut hours but not cut positions, positions cut from one role but not another, the odds that people already part-time will be in more danger or safer) and then periods of not wanting to talk about it at all.
The question of whether or not this might be a bit of a rattling to keep us in our box or to get people to quit under their own steam has been asked but not answered.
I have in fact gathered my courage and applied for another job:
a) just in case, and
b) just because I'm freaked out about the future doesn't mean that I'm not still bored with the lessened amount of work on offer, because I am.
I'd been chatting to an old workmate around the time this whole situation broke and it turned out that there was a 1 year contract opening where she worked to cover someone's maternity leave.
Now a 1 year contract isn't ideal in a number of ways (eg, the bit where I'd be having to do all this again in a year's time just when I'd really gotten used to it, a bit of a salary cut) but it is:
That went OK and I felt pretty good with how it looked by the end of it.
Then I sat down and wrote my cover letter.
This was a bit trickier as I am pretty terrible at talking myself up. At first I can't think of anything to say and then I put in way too much detail but then have trouble trimming it down because it makes me sound good.
By the end of this I thought I could walk on water and was qualified to become dictator of a small country because it made me sound really quite good.
Then I had an hour and a half conversation with the friend who told me about the position, got her impressions of working there, what the workload and people are like, how she thought I'd find the place, what to remember for the interview if I got one.
I felt a lot better about my chances after this because job ads always make it sound like they're looking for someone with four degrees and mad juggling skills which isn't always what the position requires.
But then I hit a sort of wall of Thinking About This, felt kind of emotionally drained, and then got a phone call from my Dad who wanted to know how the process was going, was very encouraging but also suggested this was a good time to think about what I want to do in the future and what my long-term goals are.
No, Dad! Bad!
The thing about my long-term goals is that very few of them are to do with work.
Most of my long-term goals look like this:
I want steady employment in something mentally engaging where I can contribute but don't have to be in charge.
I don't mind responsibility but I don't want to be leading the way because I am not ambitious.
I'll brainstorm the shit out of ideas for the people who are in charge but I don't want to have 'come up with ideas for the company/business/workplace's future' as one of my key tasks.
So yes, I do need to think about that shit but right now is not the best time for that.
I just ended up curled up on the couch, eating chicken nuggets and watching Archer like an adult while I ignored reality on the surface and pretended the undercurrents of my mind weren't wailing 'Argh! Change and decisions! Either you'll get the job and have to change now or you won't get the job and you'll either keep your boring job or get canned and be unemployed! Argh!'
Friday morning I woke up, remembered The Fear, got to work anyway, pootled around, submitted my application (which my friend who had name-dropped me to her boss tells me her boss had asked about) and freaked out some more.
No matter what happens in the next month I won't be in dire straits.
I have savings, somewhere to live, a supportive family and won't be in the desperate position some people would be in.
I had just forgotten about this particular brand of my own anxiety because I haven't had to deal with it for a while.
I get notoriously nervy around big decisions because I am terrified of making the wrong one and ending up in the shitty storyline of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure that is life.
But making no decisions can often dump you there anyway.
Oh, and Friday evening I got an email asking to set up an interview for next week so the 'What If...?' train has started building up steam in my brain and is barrelling along down the tracks 0_0
So either:
So yeah.
Life.
Change.
Flipping out about things that most other people have to deal with more often.
I know I'm not the only person who gets anxious about this kind of stuff and I'll eventually get better at dealing with it as I get the opportunity but right now I'd rather like to go into some nice soothing denial but honestly can't.
Time to be an adult or some shit like that.
Bleh.
The supervisors (not contract staff themselves) have been assuring us that things won't be as bad as all that and that it'll be people from the other areas of the contract that will be let go, not their staff!
Yes, yes, thanks, so helpful.
We go through flurries of discussing the possibilities (cut hours but not cut positions, positions cut from one role but not another, the odds that people already part-time will be in more danger or safer) and then periods of not wanting to talk about it at all.
The question of whether or not this might be a bit of a rattling to keep us in our box or to get people to quit under their own steam has been asked but not answered.
I have in fact gathered my courage and applied for another job:
a) just in case, and
b) just because I'm freaked out about the future doesn't mean that I'm not still bored with the lessened amount of work on offer, because I am.
I'd been chatting to an old workmate around the time this whole situation broke and it turned out that there was a 1 year contract opening where she worked to cover someone's maternity leave.
Now a 1 year contract isn't ideal in a number of ways (eg, the bit where I'd be having to do all this again in a year's time just when I'd really gotten used to it, a bit of a salary cut) but it is:
- work in my field
- with a reputable company that would look good on my resume
- being vouched for by someone I've worked with before who knows the kind of work I've done before
- a chance to remember how change works without having to worry I've committed myself to an ongoing position that may turn out to be awful
That went OK and I felt pretty good with how it looked by the end of it.
Then I sat down and wrote my cover letter.
This was a bit trickier as I am pretty terrible at talking myself up. At first I can't think of anything to say and then I put in way too much detail but then have trouble trimming it down because it makes me sound good.
By the end of this I thought I could walk on water and was qualified to become dictator of a small country because it made me sound really quite good.
Then I had an hour and a half conversation with the friend who told me about the position, got her impressions of working there, what the workload and people are like, how she thought I'd find the place, what to remember for the interview if I got one.
I felt a lot better about my chances after this because job ads always make it sound like they're looking for someone with four degrees and mad juggling skills which isn't always what the position requires.
But then I hit a sort of wall of Thinking About This, felt kind of emotionally drained, and then got a phone call from my Dad who wanted to know how the process was going, was very encouraging but also suggested this was a good time to think about what I want to do in the future and what my long-term goals are.
No, Dad! Bad!
The thing about my long-term goals is that very few of them are to do with work.
Most of my long-term goals look like this:
- travel a bunch
- get better at things I find interesting
- eat delicious food
- maybe get some nice snogs with a lovely man
I want steady employment in something mentally engaging where I can contribute but don't have to be in charge.
I don't mind responsibility but I don't want to be leading the way because I am not ambitious.
I'll brainstorm the shit out of ideas for the people who are in charge but I don't want to have 'come up with ideas for the company/business/workplace's future' as one of my key tasks.
So yes, I do need to think about that shit but right now is not the best time for that.
I just ended up curled up on the couch, eating chicken nuggets and watching Archer like an adult while I ignored reality on the surface and pretended the undercurrents of my mind weren't wailing 'Argh! Change and decisions! Either you'll get the job and have to change now or you won't get the job and you'll either keep your boring job or get canned and be unemployed! Argh!'
Friday morning I woke up, remembered The Fear, got to work anyway, pootled around, submitted my application (which my friend who had name-dropped me to her boss tells me her boss had asked about) and freaked out some more.
No matter what happens in the next month I won't be in dire straits.
I have savings, somewhere to live, a supportive family and won't be in the desperate position some people would be in.
I had just forgotten about this particular brand of my own anxiety because I haven't had to deal with it for a while.
I get notoriously nervy around big decisions because I am terrified of making the wrong one and ending up in the shitty storyline of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure that is life.
But making no decisions can often dump you there anyway.
Oh, and Friday evening I got an email asking to set up an interview for next week so the 'What If...?' train has started building up steam in my brain and is barrelling along down the tracks 0_0
So either:
- I'll get a new job and it'll be lovely and a good intro to the next phase of my life.
- I'll get a new job and it'll be OK and I'll just have to get a new job in a year when it ends.
- I'll get a new job and it'll turn out to be stressful and horrible, leaving me extra put out because it'll be shitty AND involve a long commute (I'm not moving to a more expensive area for a year's contract when my next job might be elsewhere), then have to get a new job.
- I won't get a new job and will have to stay with my boring job while looking for another new job.
- I won't get a new job and will be out of work and will have to look for another new job.
So yeah.
Life.
Change.
Flipping out about things that most other people have to deal with more often.
I know I'm not the only person who gets anxious about this kind of stuff and I'll eventually get better at dealing with it as I get the opportunity but right now I'd rather like to go into some nice soothing denial but honestly can't.
Time to be an adult or some shit like that.
Bleh.
Saturday, 24 May 2014
Change Ahead
Damn damnit.
Real life you are ruining my weekend!
At work a group of us are technically contracted to our workplace by an outside employment agency.
I say technically because we found out about the job independently or through people we knew, interviewed with the people who run the place, were hired and then signed a bunch of paperwork with the employment agency because they were the ones who were technically running the contract and paying wages for these positions.
The contract for these positions used to be renewed every three years for a three year period.
Two years ago management decided instead to renew for one year with two options for renewal.
Last year they signed the first renewal.
This year we've been told there's to be some more negotiating.
They told us this on Friday afternoon because that's what we all needed to hear before two days without any additional details!
Work has been slowly down steadily for the last two years and as a result they've decided the amount of hours they're going to contract the employment agency for is lower.
They of course don't know how much lower or anything helpful like that.
All they know is that they will probably end up with more positions that people and a few of us may not have jobs come the 1st of July.
Thanks for the heads up, incredibly well-organised and thoughtful management people! ← This is sarcasm!
We've all known for a while that this was probably coming considering the amount of work we were getting now compared to the old tempo but they obviously knew this too, they've probably been planning for it.
What would have been nice would be if they had let us know at the start of the year that this was a strong possibility and given people longer to assess their finances and look at whether they wanted to continue on here or look for work elsewhere.
Now, considering how I know these things are handled*, we'll probably be told how many positions are being lost a week or two before it happens.
Some of us have a bit of annual leave saved up so we'll have a few weeks of pay to survive on if that happens, others do not.
They've said that it should hopefully only be a small reduction and for all we know it'll be more along the lines that a few people have to work 4 day weeks or 6 hour days but until we know everyone is nervous and on edge.
I've been working here for 7 years now so I have been a bit bored and looking to move on but I was hoping for the time to look for something appropriate before then.
I've no reason to believe that I'm one of the people on the chopping block but it doesn't do to assume yourself entirely safe either.
That just leads to heartbreak and panic if you find out you're wrong.
This whole situation combined with the fact that there's only one year left before the entire contract goes up for tender again means there's only one year of guaranteed work before there's possibly even greater changes in the works.
This has prompted a lot of thinking, some panicking, some panicked thinking and some long overdue updating of my resume.
Ugh.
I hate unexpected change.
I'm no so great with planned change either but this? >_<
*I'm not saying it's been a bad place to work, for at least 5 of the 7 years it was pretty excellent. The last 2 have been dull because we've had less to do. The bullshit here comes in from the fact it's an organisation that has a lot of red tape and bureaucratic bollocks and it gets snarled up at times when it would be particularly handy if it didn't :-/
Real life you are ruining my weekend!
At work a group of us are technically contracted to our workplace by an outside employment agency.
I say technically because we found out about the job independently or through people we knew, interviewed with the people who run the place, were hired and then signed a bunch of paperwork with the employment agency because they were the ones who were technically running the contract and paying wages for these positions.
The contract for these positions used to be renewed every three years for a three year period.
Two years ago management decided instead to renew for one year with two options for renewal.
Last year they signed the first renewal.
This year we've been told there's to be some more negotiating.
They told us this on Friday afternoon because that's what we all needed to hear before two days without any additional details!
Work has been slowly down steadily for the last two years and as a result they've decided the amount of hours they're going to contract the employment agency for is lower.
They of course don't know how much lower or anything helpful like that.
All they know is that they will probably end up with more positions that people and a few of us may not have jobs come the 1st of July.
Thanks for the heads up, incredibly well-organised and thoughtful management people! ← This is sarcasm!
We've all known for a while that this was probably coming considering the amount of work we were getting now compared to the old tempo but they obviously knew this too, they've probably been planning for it.
What would have been nice would be if they had let us know at the start of the year that this was a strong possibility and given people longer to assess their finances and look at whether they wanted to continue on here or look for work elsewhere.
Now, considering how I know these things are handled*, we'll probably be told how many positions are being lost a week or two before it happens.
Some of us have a bit of annual leave saved up so we'll have a few weeks of pay to survive on if that happens, others do not.
They've said that it should hopefully only be a small reduction and for all we know it'll be more along the lines that a few people have to work 4 day weeks or 6 hour days but until we know everyone is nervous and on edge.
I've been working here for 7 years now so I have been a bit bored and looking to move on but I was hoping for the time to look for something appropriate before then.
I've no reason to believe that I'm one of the people on the chopping block but it doesn't do to assume yourself entirely safe either.
That just leads to heartbreak and panic if you find out you're wrong.
This whole situation combined with the fact that there's only one year left before the entire contract goes up for tender again means there's only one year of guaranteed work before there's possibly even greater changes in the works.
This has prompted a lot of thinking, some panicking, some panicked thinking and some long overdue updating of my resume.
Ugh.
I hate unexpected change.
I'm no so great with planned change either but this? >_<
*I'm not saying it's been a bad place to work, for at least 5 of the 7 years it was pretty excellent. The last 2 have been dull because we've had less to do. The bullshit here comes in from the fact it's an organisation that has a lot of red tape and bureaucratic bollocks and it gets snarled up at times when it would be particularly handy if it didn't :-/
Sunday, 18 March 2012
Coffee-Related Karmic Realignment
To all the people who ordered decaf beverages when I was a barista, I want to say I'm sorry.
Don't worry, I definitely definitely served you decaf and the beverages I provided were of the highest quality I could turn out because I took pride in my work.
But I thought uncharitable things about you as I did it.
I thought stuff like:
"If you're worried about not being able to get to sleep just don't have coffee after 4pm! Why ruin a perfectly good drink with decaf?"
OR
"If you're going to drink decaf why even freaking bother? It isn't proper coffee anyway?"
OR
"Ooh lah-di-dah, look at you taking charge of your health by limiting stimulants!"
I am really, really sorry.
I never gave any indication of what I was thinking and you probably didn't know but my sending out those sorts of negative thoughts into the universe was unkind and now I know exactly how bollocks they were.
Now that I can't have caffeine, I drink decaf.
I drink it because I really really miss coffee and it's the closest I can have.
I'm not drinking it to be pretentious or smug or because I'm a nervous little nelly who thinks a little fizz in my life will send me reeling off balance; I'm drinking it because if I have the caffeinated version I loved so much I could get sick.
I don't know how many people I served decaf to who might have been in a similar boat.
People trying to avoid antagonising heart conditions, stomach conditions, nervous system conditions, anxiety conditions, even respiratory conditions.
Maybe it was very few of them.
I have no idea.
The point is that I have no idea what their circumstances were and it wasn't my place to judge and now that I'm in the situation I am now, I know that.
I also know that not only wasn't it my place to judge but that that they should never have to explain themselves to me or anyone else or feel obligated to defend their choices.
The same way that people who drink skim/low-fat milk shouldn't have to identify whether it's because they believe that the doctors who say full cream milk is until the age of 5 and no further are right, or because they're worried about their weight or because they've had their gallbladder removed and letting fat build up in their system is painful.
The same way that people who drink soy shouldn't have to identify whether they're lactose intolerant, vegan or just really like the taste of soy.
So to all of you out there, who probably don't remember me and never knew I was being uncharitable in your direction, I send out this big pulse of positive thoughts and apology.
You'll probably be equally as unaware of it as you were of my initial cynicism but I'm sending it to you anyway and I hope that wherever you are that things are going OK for you.
Don't worry, I definitely definitely served you decaf and the beverages I provided were of the highest quality I could turn out because I took pride in my work.
But I thought uncharitable things about you as I did it.
I thought stuff like:
"If you're worried about not being able to get to sleep just don't have coffee after 4pm! Why ruin a perfectly good drink with decaf?"
OR
"If you're going to drink decaf why even freaking bother? It isn't proper coffee anyway?"
OR
"Ooh lah-di-dah, look at you taking charge of your health by limiting stimulants!"
I am really, really sorry.
I never gave any indication of what I was thinking and you probably didn't know but my sending out those sorts of negative thoughts into the universe was unkind and now I know exactly how bollocks they were.
Now that I can't have caffeine, I drink decaf.
I drink it because I really really miss coffee and it's the closest I can have.
I'm not drinking it to be pretentious or smug or because I'm a nervous little nelly who thinks a little fizz in my life will send me reeling off balance; I'm drinking it because if I have the caffeinated version I loved so much I could get sick.
I don't know how many people I served decaf to who might have been in a similar boat.
People trying to avoid antagonising heart conditions, stomach conditions, nervous system conditions, anxiety conditions, even respiratory conditions.
Maybe it was very few of them.
I have no idea.
The point is that I have no idea what their circumstances were and it wasn't my place to judge and now that I'm in the situation I am now, I know that.
I also know that not only wasn't it my place to judge but that that they should never have to explain themselves to me or anyone else or feel obligated to defend their choices.
The same way that people who drink skim/low-fat milk shouldn't have to identify whether it's because they believe that the doctors who say full cream milk is until the age of 5 and no further are right, or because they're worried about their weight or because they've had their gallbladder removed and letting fat build up in their system is painful.
The same way that people who drink soy shouldn't have to identify whether they're lactose intolerant, vegan or just really like the taste of soy.
So to all of you out there, who probably don't remember me and never knew I was being uncharitable in your direction, I send out this big pulse of positive thoughts and apology.
You'll probably be equally as unaware of it as you were of my initial cynicism but I'm sending it to you anyway and I hope that wherever you are that things are going OK for you.
Sunday, 3 July 2011
The Fertility Faction
OK, I obviously spoke too soon.
Last year a coworker announced she was pregnant.
All the women in the office who have had children got intensely excited.
I congratulated her, anticipated chipping in for flowers in a few months time and forgot all about it.
I missed the predatory gleam in their eyes.
The first salvo was subtle.
The magazines on our lunch table - usually a reliable mix of culinary, design and architecture with the odd Cleo thrown in - was suddenly peppered with parenting periodicals.
The second salvo was slightly more direct.
They began including me in their 'isn't that cute' group emails of pictures of kids frolicking with dogs, drawing on walls, buried in piles of leaves and cosplaying with their parents at Comic Con.
Their stated reason for this was that they thought I liked dogs/vandalism/leaves/cosplay.
I was invited to and attended the baby shower, where I won several games.
They saw this as a promising sign until I made it blatantly clear with my gloating victory dance that my apparent baby-related prowess was down to being a competitive jerk.
At this point the campaign had been running at least two months* and I had started to get a little paranoid and had begun wondering how they got my private email and the ads on my Facebook sidebar to join in.
My junk mail had suddenly given up on selling me V14gr4 and c14l1s or trying to hook me up with my foreign lottery winnings and has been offering me singles of all flavours.
Black singles, white singles, Latin singles, Asian singles, Christian singles, Jewish singles.
All the singles.
My Facebook ad sidebar seems to be trying to kill two birds with one stone and every day urges me to 'Give Single Dads A Chance'.
So far, I have not.
Disheartened by this lack of results, they gave up on both subtle and semi-subtle.
Any time an unmarried guy not biologically old enough to be my Father visited our workplace, they would comment on his various favourable attributes and ask me what I thought.
I thought it was kind of creepy.
I mean I'm all for the sexual equality of ladies having the freedom to perve on appealing dudes but the 'give him some slack, then reel him in, then give him some slack, then reel him in' language used by certain women in these situations make me feel incredibly skeezy.
Especially when the two very nice IT guys came through to do an equipment audit and the moment they were out the door, one particular coworker demanded that I picked out and started dancing the sideways rumba with whichever one I preferred because it was terrible to see a decent chunk of man meat like that go to waste.
When I declined her order to sexually assault the IT guy(s), she began listing friends of hers who were single and not old/crazy/destitute.
At this point two of my friends decided to come to my rescue.
Awkwardly, however, they did this by insisting that I could have had the pick of their friends at any point over the last four years but that I was under no obligation to make such a selection.
Choosing this as the moment to put my earphones on and never ever take them off again, I was spared the rest of that cringefest.
Luckily after the 'take that nerd and make him your own' conversation, they did seem to get the message that I was not going to be taken in by their cunning plan.
This reprieve can probably be more accurately attributed to the fact that our pregnant coworker has recently given birth and they now have a freshly baked bun straight out of the baby oven to coo over and the intense desire to see me opening my own franchise has abated.
I know this is temporary and that one day, they'll hear the bugle call to arms once more, but I'm just grateful for the cease-fire.
However long it may last.
*I say 'at least two months' because given my field tested obliviousness to signs, signals and hints I cannot rule out the possibility that this had kicked off the moment pregnant coworker finished enunciating the letter t in 'I'm pregnant!'
Last year a coworker announced she was pregnant.
All the women in the office who have had children got intensely excited.
I congratulated her, anticipated chipping in for flowers in a few months time and forgot all about it.
I missed the predatory gleam in their eyes.
The first salvo was subtle.
The magazines on our lunch table - usually a reliable mix of culinary, design and architecture with the odd Cleo thrown in - was suddenly peppered with parenting periodicals.
The second salvo was slightly more direct.
They began including me in their 'isn't that cute' group emails of pictures of kids frolicking with dogs, drawing on walls, buried in piles of leaves and cosplaying with their parents at Comic Con.
Their stated reason for this was that they thought I liked dogs/vandalism/leaves/cosplay.
I was invited to and attended the baby shower, where I won several games.
They saw this as a promising sign until I made it blatantly clear with my gloating victory dance that my apparent baby-related prowess was down to being a competitive jerk.
At this point the campaign had been running at least two months* and I had started to get a little paranoid and had begun wondering how they got my private email and the ads on my Facebook sidebar to join in.
My junk mail had suddenly given up on selling me V14gr4 and c14l1s or trying to hook me up with my foreign lottery winnings and has been offering me singles of all flavours.
Black singles, white singles, Latin singles, Asian singles, Christian singles, Jewish singles.
All the singles.
My Facebook ad sidebar seems to be trying to kill two birds with one stone and every day urges me to 'Give Single Dads A Chance'.
So far, I have not.
Disheartened by this lack of results, they gave up on both subtle and semi-subtle.
Any time an unmarried guy not biologically old enough to be my Father visited our workplace, they would comment on his various favourable attributes and ask me what I thought.
I thought it was kind of creepy.
I mean I'm all for the sexual equality of ladies having the freedom to perve on appealing dudes but the 'give him some slack, then reel him in, then give him some slack, then reel him in' language used by certain women in these situations make me feel incredibly skeezy.
Especially when the two very nice IT guys came through to do an equipment audit and the moment they were out the door, one particular coworker demanded that I picked out and started dancing the sideways rumba with whichever one I preferred because it was terrible to see a decent chunk of man meat like that go to waste.
When I declined her order to sexually assault the IT guy(s), she began listing friends of hers who were single and not old/crazy/destitute.
At this point two of my friends decided to come to my rescue.
Awkwardly, however, they did this by insisting that I could have had the pick of their friends at any point over the last four years but that I was under no obligation to make such a selection.
Choosing this as the moment to put my earphones on and never ever take them off again, I was spared the rest of that cringefest.
Luckily after the 'take that nerd and make him your own' conversation, they did seem to get the message that I was not going to be taken in by their cunning plan.
This reprieve can probably be more accurately attributed to the fact that our pregnant coworker has recently given birth and they now have a freshly baked bun straight out of the baby oven to coo over and the intense desire to see me opening my own franchise has abated.
I know this is temporary and that one day, they'll hear the bugle call to arms once more, but I'm just grateful for the cease-fire.
However long it may last.
*I say 'at least two months' because given my field tested obliviousness to signs, signals and hints I cannot rule out the possibility that this had kicked off the moment pregnant coworker finished enunciating the letter t in 'I'm pregnant!'
Saturday, 20 November 2010
Reluctant Reunion
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!
Here we go.
After a lot of waiting, rumours, hiccups and hold-ups, our workplace is finally in the process of being amalgamated into one building now that enough office space has opened up in the main building to incorporate the staff from the smaller building.
This is good for communications, cutting down on shilly-shallying with resources and not having to hire a private detective to work out how to work out who has what stationery and why we never have any post-its.
This is bad for the sheer amount of drama it has stirred up.
As citizens of the smaller building, my coworkers and I have enjoyed a series of small separated offices complete with doors that close, a lunch area, better parking and a good half hour's warning before any of the higher ups turn up at our door.
Moving to the larger building we'll be working in an open plan office with our big building cousins, we'll have to share facilities and the battle lines are already being drawn.
Sides have been chosen and whining is in full effect.
How we're* going to arrange our desks.
How much space we get.
What we're going to do to those dirty big building-ers if they try to use our communal fridge.
It isn't our fault that our fridge is bigger than theirs and damned if we'll be giving up our glorious fridge space when we've already had to sacrifice our privacy blah blah blah blah.
Of course, it hasn't all been solidarity and morale-boosting group planning. The existing factions, sub-factions and incestuous semi-factions in our mini-splinter-workplace have continued their scheming against each other even as they've participated in the collective scheming to make sure we aren't done wrong by the outlanders**!
I have decided to take the high road*** and hope that everything eventually settles down.
If this manages to happen before a particular group - who don't seem to have realised that they've left high school way behind them and sound ridiculous bickering like teenagers - kill each other... Well that would be great.
Yes, I'm going to miss being able to close my door, especially when one particularly racist/homophobic/reality TV loving coworker gets going, but I've still got a job I enjoy and will NOT be joining the 'this is an outrage, we're being treated so poorly' self-indulgence of the drama llama crew.
Losing a water cooler isn't a contravention of any human rights treaties, you nitwits!
All that having been said... Please let this be over soon *sigh*.
*They take it as read that I am part of the 'we' collective, I am too apathetic to be an 'us' or a 'them'. I am the Switzerland of not giving a toss about office politics.
**Wait, we're the outlanders! What does that make the other guys? Inlanders just makes them sound like tax officials.
***Translation: wear headphones all the time and ignore everyone
Here we go.
After a lot of waiting, rumours, hiccups and hold-ups, our workplace is finally in the process of being amalgamated into one building now that enough office space has opened up in the main building to incorporate the staff from the smaller building.
This is good for communications, cutting down on shilly-shallying with resources and not having to hire a private detective to work out how to work out who has what stationery and why we never have any post-its.
This is bad for the sheer amount of drama it has stirred up.
As citizens of the smaller building, my coworkers and I have enjoyed a series of small separated offices complete with doors that close, a lunch area, better parking and a good half hour's warning before any of the higher ups turn up at our door.
Moving to the larger building we'll be working in an open plan office with our big building cousins, we'll have to share facilities and the battle lines are already being drawn.
Sides have been chosen and whining is in full effect.
How we're* going to arrange our desks.
How much space we get.
What we're going to do to those dirty big building-ers if they try to use our communal fridge.
It isn't our fault that our fridge is bigger than theirs and damned if we'll be giving up our glorious fridge space when we've already had to sacrifice our privacy blah blah blah blah.
Of course, it hasn't all been solidarity and morale-boosting group planning. The existing factions, sub-factions and incestuous semi-factions in our mini-splinter-workplace have continued their scheming against each other even as they've participated in the collective scheming to make sure we aren't done wrong by the outlanders**!
I have decided to take the high road*** and hope that everything eventually settles down.
If this manages to happen before a particular group - who don't seem to have realised that they've left high school way behind them and sound ridiculous bickering like teenagers - kill each other... Well that would be great.
Yes, I'm going to miss being able to close my door, especially when one particularly racist/homophobic/reality TV loving coworker gets going, but I've still got a job I enjoy and will NOT be joining the 'this is an outrage, we're being treated so poorly' self-indulgence of the drama llama crew.
Losing a water cooler isn't a contravention of any human rights treaties, you nitwits!
All that having been said... Please let this be over soon *sigh*.
*They take it as read that I am part of the 'we' collective, I am too apathetic to be an 'us' or a 'them'. I am the Switzerland of not giving a toss about office politics.
**Wait, we're the outlanders! What does that make the other guys? Inlanders just makes them sound like tax officials.
***Translation: wear headphones all the time and ignore everyone
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Right Place, Right Time
This week was work-lite for a work week as a handful of us got to go to Adelaide on a work trip that involved meetings, presentations and very little actual participation on our part.
This was excellent.
It also managed to bring together a range of things I'm very fond of. Dining out, good wine, amazing bookshops, trawling for quirky cafés, graffiti and street art...
And the other...
Well I will set the scene thusly.
It was Saturday night, the work commitments were well and truly behind us, a friend and I decided to take a leisurely stroll down the street, admiring the way Adelaide's weather had remained stable the entire day - and indeed the whole time we'd been there - and generally putting it on the list of places we wouldn't mind living at some point.
The evening was balmy and pleasant, the light was fading, a little take away noodle place was sending out come hither odours, a local bottle-o promised chilled beverages.
As we were negotiating which dishes we would each get so we could divvy them up like the indecisive scavengers we are, a terrifying shriek filled the air, multiplying and reverberating and growing and echoing until the whole street seemed to be wrapped in it.
And then they came.
Running.
At the front quick figures in black, belts and straps, side-arms and quickly improvised weapons.
One long-legged female figure in a slinky red dress and solid black boots, stopping coolly to aim behind her when the moment presented itself.
And behind them.
The horde.
Shambling, running, staggering, falling, clothes torn, limbs bent, intestinal integrity compromised, blood smeared and dripping from foaming mouths.
They lunged uncoordinated at gawping pedestrians, only stopped by barriers that separated the street from alfresco dining areas.
Policemen tried valiantly to herd them away from witless onlookers, twisting out of the way of open jaws and reaching hands as they went.
The Adelaide Zombie Walk was upon us.
We were right in the thick of it.
And it was glorious.
The photos I took were terrible and blurry so here is a link to a site which has much much better ones.
Keep your eyes open for Zombie Ghandi, Zombie Stormtrooper, Zombie Jesus and Zombie Panda amongst others!
Conclusions:
Adelaide, I will be seeing you again.
The first wave of undead in the zombieapocalypse will have its ranks primarily composed of people who stopped to take photos and admire 'costumes'.
This was excellent.
It also managed to bring together a range of things I'm very fond of. Dining out, good wine, amazing bookshops, trawling for quirky cafés, graffiti and street art...
And the other...
Well I will set the scene thusly.
It was Saturday night, the work commitments were well and truly behind us, a friend and I decided to take a leisurely stroll down the street, admiring the way Adelaide's weather had remained stable the entire day - and indeed the whole time we'd been there - and generally putting it on the list of places we wouldn't mind living at some point.
The evening was balmy and pleasant, the light was fading, a little take away noodle place was sending out come hither odours, a local bottle-o promised chilled beverages.
As we were negotiating which dishes we would each get so we could divvy them up like the indecisive scavengers we are, a terrifying shriek filled the air, multiplying and reverberating and growing and echoing until the whole street seemed to be wrapped in it.
And then they came.
Running.
At the front quick figures in black, belts and straps, side-arms and quickly improvised weapons.
One long-legged female figure in a slinky red dress and solid black boots, stopping coolly to aim behind her when the moment presented itself.
And behind them.
The horde.
Shambling, running, staggering, falling, clothes torn, limbs bent, intestinal integrity compromised, blood smeared and dripping from foaming mouths.
They lunged uncoordinated at gawping pedestrians, only stopped by barriers that separated the street from alfresco dining areas.
Policemen tried valiantly to herd them away from witless onlookers, twisting out of the way of open jaws and reaching hands as they went.
The Adelaide Zombie Walk was upon us.
We were right in the thick of it.
And it was glorious.
The photos I took were terrible and blurry so here is a link to a site which has much much better ones.
Keep your eyes open for Zombie Ghandi, Zombie Stormtrooper, Zombie Jesus and Zombie Panda amongst others!
Conclusions:
Adelaide, I will be seeing you again.
The first wave of undead in the zombieapocalypse will have its ranks primarily composed of people who stopped to take photos and admire 'costumes'.
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Restore To Factory Settings
At the start of each year my workplace likes to prime us for the challenges ahead by having us sit in a stuffy un-air-conditioned room during the height of summer and subjecting us to hours of safety and ethics lectures.
Apparently we shouldn't play with electricity, fire or heavy items or steal things, lie or kill people.
Good thing they told me.
Thought it does kind of throw out my plans for the weekends.
Goodbye sexual harassment initiated orgies in piles of stolen stationery whilst on drugs purchased by selling industry secrets.
After suffering through two rounds of this excruciating boredom I think I've worked out what they're up to.
They're trying to reset our expectation levels.
After the possible happiness of the holidays and the festive season* they want to kick off with a couple of days of brain-melting tedium and discomfort because after that anything will seem like an improvement.
The office politics will seem manageable, the nebulous and ever-moving deadlines will still fit into the 'can cope with' column and the mental shortcomings of the people who do the payroll will not send you into a Michael Douglas in Falling Down type mental spiral.
Once it's over the only important thing is that it'll be a full year until you have to do it again and employee dissatisfaction doesn't usually set in until midyear by which point they can depend on the wistful longing for the next vacation and awareness of the requirement for cashy-money for the accompanying festive season to keep things on an even keel.
Of course it could be worse.
I could not have a job.
*Depends on how your holidays went and how festive you are.
Apparently we shouldn't play with electricity, fire or heavy items or steal things, lie or kill people.
Good thing they told me.
Thought it does kind of throw out my plans for the weekends.
Goodbye sexual harassment initiated orgies in piles of stolen stationery whilst on drugs purchased by selling industry secrets.
After suffering through two rounds of this excruciating boredom I think I've worked out what they're up to.
They're trying to reset our expectation levels.
After the possible happiness of the holidays and the festive season* they want to kick off with a couple of days of brain-melting tedium and discomfort because after that anything will seem like an improvement.
The office politics will seem manageable, the nebulous and ever-moving deadlines will still fit into the 'can cope with' column and the mental shortcomings of the people who do the payroll will not send you into a Michael Douglas in Falling Down type mental spiral.
Once it's over the only important thing is that it'll be a full year until you have to do it again and employee dissatisfaction doesn't usually set in until midyear by which point they can depend on the wistful longing for the next vacation and awareness of the requirement for cashy-money for the accompanying festive season to keep things on an even keel.
Of course it could be worse.
I could not have a job.
*Depends on how your holidays went and how festive you are.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)